Blood and Iron
by Syndic
Summary: The Yuuzhan Vong threat is over, while the galaxy burns in the fires of strife and on the brink of civil war, from the shadows of the past an Imperium arrives hard as iron, threatening to bathe the galaxy in blood AU Thrawn semific, R
1. Chapter 1

AU Loosely based on the SW universe post-NJO, as well as on real-life events I shall not elaborate upon to prevent causing boredom. :-) 

On with the show as the saying goes!

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He rose from his slumber just before dawn. Slipping into his tunic silently, we shuffled torwards the balcony. Slowly leaning against the window of his apartment high in the skyscrapers of Coruscant - a previously undreamed privilege - until the Yuuzhan Vong that is. He palmed his tunic for his pack of cigars... The man held his hand up, and snapped his fingers. Fire licked up his fingers, neither burning nor scorching his flesh as he lighted his cigar. The flame died, as he breathed smoke through his nose and lowered his hand to rest at his side.

How many years has it been? He briefly remembered the delivery he recieved last night, so old-fashioned, yet secure. A parchment, detailing the proclamation.  
What is skin ripped from a sheep, stamped and wrapped in black ribbon, sent to me across the stars? Death... More death. he sighed to himself as he watched the sun rise from its hiding, basking the city with its warm light... waking the city which never went to sleep.

He took a deep breath of smoke, exhaling it slowly. So, the time has finally arrived. The galaxy stained in blood, chaos dividing the Galactic Alliance as they fought like dogs between bits of bone, Corellia on one end, the Alliance on the other... gnawing and tearing, as if they have learned nothing from their mistakes. Heretics. Infidels. Faithless dogs.

Skotos dropped his head in revered acceptance of His divine will. War... War never changes. The sons of the God-Emperor will be marching to war soon enough... Bathing the galaxy in the fires of bloody cleansing.

He lifted his eyes to gaze upon the sun, accepting the heat as it gazed back. How many years has it been, since the Emperor fell into the void and plunged the galaxy into turmoil? How many deaths were suffered, failures and stalled projects, before the objective was complete?

He sighed again, extinguishing his cigar and squaring his shoulders for the task ahead.

- - - - - -

Dawn had come and gone by the time he got up. The entire city, with its magnificent colossal crimson statues of the God-Emperor, was alive with activity. Luca stood on his blacony, gazing at the starfighters which roared between the tall ominous buildings, vigilant on patrol. He didn't need to see much of them to know what they looked like - he piloted them for ten years, fighting for supremacy among the squadrons of the Imperium. His was the finest, the strongest, the most brutal squadron. He allowed a small smile to appear on his face, knowing that it was no idle bragging. Omega was the only squadron to be personally awarded the Seal of the Crusader by his august majesty, the divine God-Emperor, in all of their Imperium's history.

He could see the bulky but deadly craft in his mind's eye - triangular in shape, like the Star Destroyers of old, with two engine turbines tucked in the hollow of its wings. Four of the turbo-lasers converted for starfighters mounted on its hull in self-sealing chambers, powered by a generator that could in normal circumstances power a city block with little fuss. The Battlebirds were fearsome birds of prey, and it never ceased to amuse him how their poverty in the past helped them learn to make-do with that they could.

He clenched his hands in fury which threatened to spill over and flow through him like the lava which flowed in the city cannals. Aye, poverty inflicted by the fall of the Emperor and his Empire. His pet project, fed and pampered, almost extinguished mere months after his fall at Endor. Those dark times were before He came to them. The revered God-Emperor came to them, last but greatest of Palpatine's gifts to them, carrying with him the horrors which sparked the Clone Wars which threatened to engulf the galaxy before Palpatine. The Spaarti Cylinders.

He got dressed quickly. Time was not on his side, it was nearly time to report to Command, and to supervise the first time in nearly fourty years that they would venture beyond the Deep Core in force, rather then in secret. No more false identities, like poor old Skotos and Tyth. Dear gods, the God-Emperor's chosen angels of death posing as wine and dewback peddlers. He shook his head in dismay as he straightened up before the full-lenght ornamented mirror in his chambers.

He felt a bit weak, but the mirror told him a completely different story. Luca Niram stood tall at nearly two meters of height, managing not to look like he was starving to death by the broad shoulders and strong arms which he sported, a token gained during his service in the Legions. Black uniform, with silver linings to mark him as a pilot veteran, with no medals clogging his chest, but only one. The rest, he kept stashed in his chambers in some drawer, he forgot which.

The door slammed shut behind him as he left his chambers.


	2. Chapter 2

Apparently Fanfiction doesn't like certain symbols I used in the Prologue to display separation between characters, so the prologue didn't come out as good-looking as it should have. My apologies to you readers :) Here's the next chapter :) 

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Skotos seated himself across the small table, eyeing the man on the other side warily. Thin and small, almost deformed in appearance, even in his expensive garmaments Addai wasn't a pretty sight to look at early in the morning, especially considering his orders regarding the matter. He'd gotten to know him over the years, and knew for a fact that he was the grey eminence behind the board of directors which were supposedly at the head of the merchant corporation that spanned the galaxy.

"Allright Skotos, what is it that you need? You don't normally call on your credit with me." Addai eyed him as he fondled the plant next to his chair, horrible thing with sharp leaves which always threatened to cut your fingers should you be so foolish as to touch it. Yet Addai never cut himself. When he first came into the organization over thirty years ago, some people in the organization said that it was a gift from a Jedi Knight before the purges, others said Emperor Palpatine gave it to him to thank him for pointing out a Jedi Master he befriended years before the Clone Wars, who came asking for shelter.

The office itself was spacious, filled with various bits and pieces of art Addai accumulated over the years, going so far as to display a lightsaber in a showcase on his desk, giving credit to the rumours concerning the Jedi related to his plant. Half a decade ago when he and Addai got uncharacteristically and properly drunk after sealing a particuliarly lucrative deal, Addai admitted it was a forgery and that he got the plant from some Imperial officer in exchange for several art pieces he was peddling at the time.

"I'm afraid its no good news... I recieved news from home, things are getting rough there with this Corellia situation polarizing the entire galaxy. I am forced to retire, and I will be selling my share in the company, provided you are interested in helping me finish off my last project before I retire." he said, meeting the little man's eye contact head on.

"I'm sorry old friend. I will truly miss your snide cheeky remarks concerning the company business. But, what is this project about? Big I assume, knowing you. And how are you going to get along if you sell your entire share?" Addai's eyes gave no way to the sympathy his words expressed, which was good as far as Skotos was concerned. He knew that Addai was acting like that out of a habit thirty years old, and as an additional note he didn't want to feel any more guilt.

"I'll manage. It'll be big enough to turn the galaxy around," he smiled at the irony of it, "I've been tipped off by my contacts about the goverment on Thyferra planning a huge project, it is going to involve copious amounts of durasteel and some other heavy-duty construction stuff, apparently they're building some sort of a colossal monument to the victory against the Yuuzhan Vong... Still in the wraps, top-secret slit-your-throat-before-you-read stuff. aMan with adequate amount of materials could stand to make alot of money provided he has a man on the inside. Which I do. Thats where you come in... In exchange for my share of the company, I'd like you to finance the endeavor. Out of friendship naturally, you stand to make a reasonable profit there, almost a three to one return." he waved his hands in complex patterns as he explained each part of the plan to Addai, who interlaced his fingers and was eyeing him thoughtfully.

"How safe is this contact of yours? If I invest, I'd rather not sell at a lower price then I bought it for when the vultures start pecking around just because your contact couldn't get his head outta his ass. And how big of an investment are we talking about?" Addai said thoughtfully, his green greedy eyes clouded with calculations.

"If it ain't safe, then there must have been an election for First Citizen on Thyferra that I wasn't aware of old chap." Skotos allowed a smile, "We're talking about twice as big as the Tibanna deal back in the day." he said, referring to the deal which enriched them beyond their wildest fantasies, another plot of his. It pushed them through the ranks of the organization, nearly to the very top, after they spent most of the money they earned on bribes to higher-ranked members in order to get past them, and they didn't waste time to replace those with men loyal to them after they were in office.

"Son of a gun!" Addai laughed out loud, "I like it... Lets get it rolling. And lets get lunch rolling, nothing opens my apetite like the prospect of credits going out of my pocket and coming back with a whole family of credits." he said as he rose from his chair, shuffling the leaves of his plant.

Skotos could never figure out how that old fart never cut himself on that hellspawned plant.

"Forget about lunch Addai. You're wasting away in this office... I plan to take the shipment to Thyferra myself, and I want you with me. A last adventure old friend, for old times sake." Skotos said raising out of his chair and putting a hand on Addai's desk to steady himself.

"Hard as it is to refuse you, I must. Things aren't at their best right now, the war screwed us royally and I need to stay here to keep my finger on the button." Addai frowned again.

"Precisely why you should go to Thyferra, to see the deal sealed. Who knows, the First Citizen might be so glad of our delivery that he will issue more contracts for us."

"True enough I suppose... Best get him a shipment big enough to secure those contracts then. Getting the crew for the ships will be a problem, and I don't want to rely on droids and computers ever since that little incident on Mon Calamari." Addai waved a finger at him.

Skotos flinched, as was expected. The Mon Calamari incident involved a freighter operated completely by droids, miscalculating its course by a margin of decimals. Normally that wasn't a problem, if the ship in question hadn't accidentally calculated its course without taking in calculation the trajectory of a convoy which shortly before emerged from hyperspace. There was cargo and food products floating all over the Mon Cal space for the next week, if he remembered correctly.

"Don't worry about the crew... I'll get that covered. You get those ships, and that cargo, loaded up. If we meet the deadline, all expenses will be covered plus a guaranteed three to one profit. Bona fide contract is what I'm talking about, so don't stim on money spending."

"I'm starting to like this idea more with every passing second. Some day you'll have to tell me how do you always land contracts like that." Addai gave up, "I'll order my men to pack my stuff and we'll be off, just like old times my friend. This deserves a toast I say!" he finished with a smile, and poured them two glasses of Corellian Gold.

"Yes, just like old times. To profit old friend!" Skotos toasted and clinked his glass to his old friends.

- - - - - -

Solemnly floating through the void of space, the ancient Star Destroyer stood in orbit of the planet it was tasked to secure. Originally, it was the single ship they had, a lone Victory II. Originally designed immediately after the Clone Wars, it was an old starship, but still it inspired a sense of pride in him to look upon the graceful old lady shouldering many years of service in the God-Emperor's cause. Now it was waiting, patiently like the old lady always did, waiting to take him to the first battle they would fight against outsiders after half a century of isolation and secrecy.

"Shuttle CI051, transmit your identification." the comm crackled with the voice of the communications officer on duty aboard the 'Prejudice'.

"Acknowledged 'Prejudice', transmitting now." he spoke as he keyed in the authorisation code in the console and sent it off.

"Identification recieved and confirmed, docking bay 6 will be cleared for your landing. Welcome aboard Admiral." the response came shortly and abruptly ended. He frowned, and ordered his Battlebird escort to close up formation.

As he passed the magnetic shield which held back the vacuum from sucking out every molecule of air from the docking bay, he could see the welcoming party on the deck where he was supposed to land. Rows upon rows of heavy armored troops in reinforced exoskeletons, reminiscent of the stormtroopers of old. He allowed a smile, wondering what those old elite warriors who lived and died for Palpatine would think of the exoskeletons employed by the Crimson Imperium's troops.

They were more then exoskeletons, more then combat suits, every armor was crafted specifically for its owner, yet with enough standardised equipment to allow them to be scrapped in case the trooper in question perished during battle. The armor itself was heavy-duty, capable of protecting the trooper even in vacuum for hours before the air supply in its internal systems went out. Pearl white, with the inpersonal skull shaped helmet reminiscent of the old stormtrooper design. In their hands, they held the Vindicators, revered turbo-plasma guns, worn out from hard use in the training camps, yet still shining like they were just out of the factories.

As he guided the shuttle into landing, he could notice the markings on the bulky shoulderpads and armor of the troopers, displaying the skull between two swords with a scroll beneath it, mark of the VI Legio Dominatus. A beautifully gold and brass enameled banner depicting the same markings was held up in every block of the formation. So that was what was designated to him for this mission. Appropriate of the divine God-Emperor, to grant him the finest of the Legions to open this first venture into the campaign that would bring order to the galaxy.

The ramp lowered, and he strode down, accompanied by his own squadron similiarily battle-dressed in combat armor, though bearing the gaping jaw design of the Omega squadron. He felt a bit naked strolling unarmored amongst the silent giants, yet he strode forward confidently torwards the turbolift that would take him to the bridge, as the giants stood silent as statues.

The turbolift doors opened, displaying the exact opposite of the solemn silence in the hangar. The entire bridge was bustling with action, preparations for the trip ahead no doubt. Unlike the heavily-trained army troops and starfighter squadrons, the Navy didn't have the luxury of engaging in wargames to the death, thus they didn't have the veteran quality in them, but that would change soon enough.

"Grand Admiral on the bridge!" boomed the staff officer on duty, promptly causing everyone on the bridge to stiffen their spines and salute as he entered. Untested, he remarked to himself in his mind. Unblooded. The clock display was clicking, right now it was at five minutes and thirty seconds... twenty nine... twenty eight... he shook out of it.

"At ease. Estimated time until battle-ready status?" he directed his question to his second-in-command as he seated himself in the command chair close to the viewing ports, while behind him crewers worked in the crew pits to bring the aging old lady to operational status.

"We have been at battle-ready status since zero six hundred hours sir." Captain Marl replied, stepping up to the command chair.

"Good. Captain, take us out of orbit, and prepare the jump to Thyferra. Notify Admiral Hadis that he is to remain at the regroup point for an extra two minutes." he ordered.

"As you wish Grand Admiral. Captain Trey reports that his battlegroup encountered minor difficulties with some enemy contacts, and also wishes to inform you that the enemy has been purged in His glorious name." Marl readed out the report from his datapad.

"First victory of the day for the God-Emperor." Grand Admiral Luca Niram allowed a smile.

"Contact in sector A6, identification... its the 'Righteous Fury' sir." a crewmember piped in from the crewpit. The ship that appeared in the distant sector was right on time, Niram remarked to himself. Two kilometers in lenght, the 'Righteous Fury' was the hallmark of the Crimson Imperium's R&D department, boasting layers of armor upon armor, several dozens of turbolaser batteries high-wired for the heavy-duty punishing performance demanded by the God-Emperor. It was influenced by the Star Destroyer design, he knew, but where the Star Destroyers inspired fear and awe in their enemies, the battleship which emerged was nothing such. It was coated in burgundy, with curved spikes protuding from its hull at certain points such as its mid section and the command tower, all of those dominated by the sizeable straight spike protuding from its fore, crafted from durasteel folded a thousand times over and reinforced with unknown materials, in theory it should be capable of punching through most of the armor found on starships throughout the galaxy.

In theory, ofcourse. Like most of the Navy, the Crimson I Star Destroyers were untested and untried in live combat. But that would change in due time... The God-Emperor has declared a Crusade of likes the galaxy has not yet seen, and today would be the day the forces of the Crimson Imperium would stride forth to deliver His divine will in battle, and woe to those who stood in their way.

The clock ticked at ten seconds.

"Send my regards to Captain Kharr, and inform him to wait two minutes extra before procceeding with the plan."

"Aye aye sir."

"Countdown, five... four... three... two... one... jumping now!" the helm officer called out as the stars turned into lines, and 'Prejudice' was gone.


	3. Chapter 3

After a bit of work and frustration at Fanfic's refusal to accept stars as POV separations, I was forced to use - to perform the same function. :)

Here's the next chapter, hope you enjoy it. And GIEF reviews. :)

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"Latest report on the enemy status." Hadis spoke up from his chair. Might as well make use of this extra two minutes the Grand Admiral granted them to review the order of battle.

"The last report came in three hours ago sir. The defense platform was reinforced five hours ago with a complement of starfighters, our source estimates three squadrons of X-Wing starfighters. Several Assault Frigates are holding orbit, and a Bothan Cruiser is having a shakedown cruise. Other then that, no changes sir." the report came in steady.

Frigates? Cruisers? What was supposed to be an opportunity for the Battlegroup to gain badly needed field experience in battle, just got turned into a game with the odds against them. What could three Star Destroyers do against such odds? So many variables untested, too much theory, too little of it proven in practice. It would very likely get ugly, and any losses they suffered during the first phase, would severely leave them weakened for the further part of the Campaign. With such odds, even if they won they might lose a ship, which would render the whole plan useless.

And replacements were hard to come by... The factories and shipyards at home were impressive with their productions, but they lacked the raw materials to replenish the existing battle-groups to full strenght if worst came to happen. Most of the materials they aquired during the years went into the shipyards and factories themselves, expanding them to immense capacities and taxing their economy to the brink of starvation. It was now or never, the Imperium's crimson flag would either fly, or burn into oblivion.

Hadis toyed with the idea of calling the attack off. Surely the Grand Admiral would understand, if he called it off and proceeded with the next phase, even if it would leave a thorn in their side to leave such a Republic task force in their rear. He dismissed the idea quickly, either way he was comitted to attack, the political situation back home was such that nothing but a sure victory would leave him in position. The economical situation... he didn't even want to think about that.

"Sir? Shall we procceed with the countdown?" his second in command called up.

"Procceed with the countdown, and add extra two seconds before exit time." Hadis gave the order.

"Two seconds sir? Won't that bring us..." his second started to speak.

"... In combat range, where we will be vunerable to attack until we can launch our battlebirds and raise the deflectors. I know. We cannot afford to pitch the odds against us further, to lose the element of suprise." Hadis finished for his second.

"I must object sir, the plan clearly stated..."

"Countdown, five... four... three... two... one... initiating jump!" the helms officer interrupted his second in command. For a moment Hadis idly toyed with the idea of shooting him for his stupidity, while stars turned into lines and all that lay before them was the tunnel of hyperspace as they were on their way to their doom or their triumph. The latter not necessarily excluding the former.

"The plan got changed when they got reinforced. That will be all Captain."

"Yes sir."

"Exiting hyperspace in seven... six... five... four... three... two... one... exiting now!" the helms officer followed up a minute after their jump.

The planet below them glittered in the blackness of space as they arrived. He could notice ships and the platform itself, as the other Star Destroyers from their battlegroup exited hyperspace in formation a bit too loosely disrupted.

"Contacts in sector G14, defense platform in sector K4 launching fighters, eight squadrons detected... multiple contacts inbound sir." a report sailed from the crewpit before Hadis could get his bearings. The tactical display lighted up with reds and blues. The Assault Frigates were sluggishly leaving orbit, but the Bothan Cruiser was even slower in responding.

"Unknown ships, this is Defense Platform X16, you are in violation of Anaxes space, lower your shields and identify yourself." the comm crackled on the bridge of the 'Judgement', and Hadis gritted his teeth. He turned on the comm outgoing signal and composed himself to appear suitably panicked.

"Thank the Force! This is captain Acheeba, we were attacked on Dorin by the Vong, our defenses were overwhelmed, we've suffered heavy damage!" he shut off the outgoing signal.

"Outgoing transmission scrambled with static as ordered sir." the comm officer reported.

"Good work, continue sending the same message randomly re-scrambled, play with the volume a bit. Ops, activate the explosives." Hadis recomposed himself.

The ship shuddered a bit as explosives went off. They were placed randomly along the hull where their armor was the thickest, with enough couching and just enough power to do their job. They were stacked with suitable debris to scatter around their ship, giving off the right impression. He shuddered as well, when he saw one of his ships spikes broken off and sent floating through the space. He'd have a word with the Ops officer about that... Just the two of them and something suitably blunt...

"Their comm channels are in disarray sir, 'His Majesty' and 'Blood Oath' have rejoined proper formation and activated their explosives as well."

"Jam their communications! Open the hatches, launch the battlebirds and order them to form a protective screen around the capital ships. Helm, flank speed fifteen degrees portside." Hadis ordered.

"Battlebirds launched, their starfighters are reforming."

On the tactical screen, he could see the Assault Frigates were indeed paused by his transmission, but now they resumed their exit from orbit. He gained them several seconds spare time, enough to make sure his ships could raise their shields and launch their battlebirds accordingly to battle doctrine. The Frigates began launching their own starfighters, and the tac screen began glowing with red dots. His flagship, 'Judgement' was marked with a yellow dot, so were his battlebirds. Two squadrons, on each of their Star Destroyers... Such was the price for those bulky heavy-duty fighters. He only hoped all those live-fire wargames the squadrons engaged at would prove to have given them some proper experience.

The enemy deployed his squadrons to blunt their approach torwards the planet, while remaining in the range of the defense platform. That would indeed be a tough nut to crack, Hadis noted to himself. Luckly, he had an ace up his sleeve...

'Judgement' shook under fire, but the shields held out. A full volley from the platform, more like that, and he would have big problems on his hands.

"Full speed, deploy the battlebirds in full offensive. Weapons, open fire, target the station. Relay orders to 'His Majesty' and 'Blood Oath' to focus their fire on the station's hangar bay if they are able, if not, weapon systems."

From the lenght of his flagship which he could see from the command tower, the turbo laser batteries began spitting their deadly loads at the defense station, not doing much against the shield in place there. Only a small trickle of their damage output was getting through the shield, but that would suffice for now, until their operatives got their asses together and pulled the plug. The battlebird line met the enemy starfighters head on, and their battle started with a series of explosions which riddled through the enemy lines as the birds opened fire. Apparently, those turbo lasers were being made useful out there.

Ahead of them, an enemy squadron flew through the battlebird line, the seven starfighters moving speedily torwards 'Judgement's bridge. Which wasn't good, their guns weren't made for fast-tracking of small targets, something he'd have to mention to Fleet Command when they got home... Both sides comitted their starfighters to the bloody melee although the 'Blood Oath' reported a technical problem with their launch pads and was unable to launch its last squadron. They had five squadrons in there, outnumbered and the fools couldn't even launch a squadron properly...

An explosion appeared at the belly of the 'Blood Oath', and Hadis grimaced, for a moment thinking the ship suffered severe damage in the vunerable area around the hangar bay where the armor wasn't at its thickest, but then the squadron of battlebirds flew from it and moved to engage the enemy squadron which broke the line and was fast approaching on 'Judgement' itself, as lights began winking out on the tactical display.

"Report from 'Blood Oath' sir, the squadron opened fire on the hangar bay floor sir, opening it to vacuum."

So typical of the impetous battlebird pilots, he'd have to issue a warning to prevent that happening on his ship. They left the belly of 'Blood Oath' open to vacuum and enemy fire, the fools. All for the joy of getting to the fight, something which was mentioned on the last Fleet Command meeting when the subject of the battlebird pilots was brought up. All the bloody wargames getting to their heads, killing friends you trained with didn't help their sanity, and they were embracing the faith in the God-Emperor more zealously then even the most hardcore zealots back home.

That same squadron which endangered the 'Blood Oath' was now brutally pushing their engines to intercept the squadron which broke the line. He could actually see them, bulky craft that they were, burning their fuel like pigs. It paid off though, as they hit the enemy X-Wings on the flank, almost opening fire at point-blank range while the X-Wings were turning to intercept them.

Hadis blinked as he saw the destruction they visited upon the X-Wings, the battlebirds tipped their wings while flying by the bridge viewports. Arrogant little cocksuckers, he thought. Still... He checked the tactical display more closely. The enemy was being severely bloodied in the fight for space superiority, apparently the battlebirds were everything the engineers promised. Though he was dismayed at the lowered capacity of their starfighter complement, Hadis could see the point in having the bulky fighters.

Their next volley was fired just as an explosion shook the defense station, and he knew half of their battle was just won for them. Divine God-Emperor, bless their souls and grant them a place at your side... Their volley smashed against the defense platform, ripping through their armor and scattering debris.

"Explosion on the defense platform sir, their shields are down! Enemy frigates incoming, they're turning for a broadside!"

"Ramming speed!" Hadis shouted down the crewmember who reported it, and the 'Judgement' began picking up speed almost immediately. No doubt the helm officer was keeping his finger on it, anticipating the battle in his own way. He'd have to see to it that the man recieved a proper reward.

Hadis gave thought to the agents on the defense station. Sad, but unavoidable. They gave their lives to bring the shield down, and he did not doubt that they all died in the explosion itself. Fleet Command made sure that indoctrinated agents were aware of their chances of survivability even if they survived their objectives.

An explosion lightened the entire bridge even with the viewports blocking out most of the radiation and ultra-violet light. The station just went off, Hadis thought.

The Cruiser was increasing speed rapidly, moving to outflank his battlegroup. He could see the damage reports coming in from the 'Blood Oath', they suffered heavy damage and casualities from the explosion, thanks to the fools blasting through the hangar bay, a load of radiation from the station's power generator leaked in before they could get into their suits. The 'Judgement' shook slightly as it took the brunt of the Assault Frigate broadside, which was growing in size as they approached it head-on.

"New ships in sector G13 sir, recieving identification... its the 'Righteous Fury' sir."

"Weapons, hold your fire and deliver His judgement to the foul abominations on my mark." Hadis flashed a wolf smile at his second, before returning his view to the scene ahead of them.

Just in time to see the reinforced ramming spike penetrate the shield of the Assault frigate, and the armor, literally ripping through its slim bow, as both ends of the Frigate began floating off, scraping along the 'Judgement's hull.

"Mark!" Hadis nodded to the Weapons officer, and half a second later a brutally punishing volley devastated the two remaining pieces which were still venting air and people into space. On the tactical map, he could see the 'Righteous Fury' was increasing speed, sensors picking up what amounted to another example of people wasting valuable fuel like pigs to pick up additional speed.

Hadis frowned, thinking at the vector trajectories... No, Kharr wouldn't do that.

Son of a bitch! He would!

- - - - - -

His squad was at the reinforced blast doors which separated them from the carnage that awaited them. They were in their harnesses, lifting each other's spirits with jokes and jibes before the battle to come. The bone-crushing jolt that would have thrown them all against the bulkhead came with no warning besides a red light with started to flash miliseconds before impact. Scraping sounds were heard everywhere around them, muffling the furious blast of turbo lasers elsewhere on the ship. He unbuckled his harness, and rose from his harness. Finally, a battle to test their mettle against unbelievers in the God-Emperor's divine mandate, instead of against each other!

The blast doors opened faster then eye could follow, and one of his overzealous troopers rushed through before thinking. Unfortunately, he didn't realize they rammed through the ship which meant certain things couldn't be taken for granted, before he slammed into the steel wall with his upper body, landing hard on his back.

"Get that idiot away and grapple down on the double before I shoot him!" He bellowed, not believing his eyes. Two other troopers dragged the idiot away while the rest of their company grappled down. Halfway down, they could hear the booming noise of the Vindicators, muffled through walls. The other side of the spearhead met enemy contact apparently.

He landed in a corridor right before a juncture, and moved to cover it while the rest of his troops dropped down. Hopefully with more effect then that idiot. He dared a glance behind the wall, and saw people retreating down the corridor with the blast doors closing to block off what the enemy probably figured out would be vacuum. Tough luck for the dumbshits, he thought as he jumped into the corridor and opened fire.

Vindicators normally operated on plasma ammunition but due to the possibilty of plasma punching through bulkheads, they switched to the armor piercing ballistic rounds, the weapon spat it out faster then the eye could follow from the triple barreled body of the bulky gun. One of the retreating people was unlucky enough to catch a round to the back of his shoulder, turning him around in air from the force of the blow coating the walls and people around him with blood, sending the remains of his hand flying in one direction, his screaming body in the other, while the other two shots he cycled alongst the retreating line. Unfortunately, both got caught in the rapidly closing blast doors. He replayed the image in his helmet as he lifted his Vindicator in guard position, noticing the dog-feature snout and fur of the foe he killed. Filthy aliens.

Holding up three fingers and pointing at the door, he motioned to his heavy-weapons team, who placed their VI-55 on its tripods and began to spit out the turboplasma shots at the door, which was slowly at first but increasing in pace, melting down.

A hole appeared in the blast doors and was slowly expanding, though before they could pass Henin almost spat out with disgust, behind a small stretch of a corridor, was another blast door.

It took them an hour to get through all the blast doors in their way, but in the end they did. Apparently the other squads weren't so unlucky, as he listened to the reports from them... Third made it to the engine room when the crew there surrendered, although Henin thought they wouldn't have surrendered if they knew what would happen afterwards. The Legions had no taste for cowards, so it was not a suprise when he recieved a followup report concerning the prisoners attempting to escape with the commander of the Third regretfully informing him that all prisoners were killed in the attempt.

The Fourth secured the hangar after a bloody battle, they were four troopers down and would surely win glorious praise from the General for destroying a squadron of E-Wings before they could be launched. Henin personally would have them whipped for wasting so much demolition ammo, with all the battlebirds out there one squadron wouldn't make much problems, and a lack of granades certainly would if they ran into problems.

The First however, he got no report from them. He assumed they were still busy with securing the bridge, when the last of the damned blast doors fell down.

"GO GO GO! MOVE IT!" he bellowed out as he motioned his troops through, they filed into the room and immediately began spreading out, shooting in stride. When Henin came through, he was in shock when he discovered it was the bridge, but that quickly passed from his mind as fire began to pepper his armor, one of his troopers was unlucky enough to catch a bolt in the eye of his helmet. Which wasn't particuliarly armored, as the shot incinerated the man in the armor and sent him smashing into the deck. Absent mindedly he noticed the stairs in the spacious room leading up to the bridge, with more of the dog - Bothans, he corrected himself, hiding behind makeshift cover they placed on the stairs and the top of the stairs, shooting down on his boys.

"Tripod, bring it already we need covering fire!" Henin shouted into the commlink in his helmet, before he even finished his sentence the tripod still in the corridor from which they entered began spewing fire all along the stairs leading up to the bridge, but due to the fact that the corridor wasn't particuliarly big, they could only cover a narrow period of space, and they couldn't stop firing for re-deploying in the room proper because of the situation.

The Vindicators were booming grimly all around him, intermixed with the softer whine of the laser rifles and pistols the republicans had. Two more of his men went down, the others not wasting an opportunity like that and piling them on each other so they had some cover while shooting. The enemy though, suffered harder casualities. Between shots, Henin saw blood leaking down the stairs, blown off limbs and guts were making the stair slippery. With every second, more and more of the Bothans were gunned down. One of them stood up from his shelter with a carbine on full auto and began spraying fire, only to recieve three rounds in quick succession to his chest and groin, splashing the area with a spray of blood as his leg was ripped off from the blow.

The bloody carnage was apparently enough as they began falling back, just the cue Henin was waiting for, he took his time to send a round through a bothan running along the wall blindly shooting backward, almost nailing him to the wall when the round took him in the belly and ripped through him.

"Tripod, re-deploy! Covering fire men, hose them down!" Henin waved to his men, the republicans were in full flight up the stairs. A thermal detonator landed near him, without thinking he kicked it away to the end of the stairs, where it ripped chunks out of the floor and stairs. A blinding pain seared through his mind as he dropped to the floor, his helmet screens displaying a picture of his armor status. Most of it was yellow, but his shoulderpad was black. He could barely move his hand, but he still rose up to a crouch and held his Vindicator one-handed. The servos in his armor struggled and whined to compensate for the weight.

The whine of the tripod firing resumed, then abruptly ended as its chamber overheated from the firing and exploded. The blast killed the gunner, blasting through his armor like paper and taking his hands off, the feeder was more fortunate as he was crouching near the box with the ammunition, still he was sprawled on the ground and wasn't moving.

Atleast the ammo for the tripod didn't explode, Henin thought to himself. The fire from the republicans intensified on their position, spraying their position with hot and deadly light. He dared a look over the body of trooper Uhlan, flinched back quickly when a bolt hit him in the temple of his helmet. Its glow changed to red on his display, and his shoulder hurt as hell. The blasted dipshits got reinforcements from somewhere, and now they weren't even taking cover, just standing and crouching on the top of the stairs and shooting down at them. This wouldn't do, they'd get royally and properly fucked and slaughtered here.

His armor started vibrating, and he realized this was the end. For a moment, then he saw the tripod keel over. He started to yell to his boys to stand fast, then a trooper ran in. Henin almost choked when he saw him. He literally jumped into the room, much like he jumped into the bulkhead at the beginning of their venture, sporting a rocket launcher he shielded with his body, trusting his armor to take the brunt of the punishment. He got it on his shoulder faster then the eye could follow, and aimed. His aim was thrown off, as a laserbolt ripped off his bulky shoulderpad, but still the projectile flew. It slammed into the roof of the chamber just before the top of the stairs.

Henin started to shout for his boys to get up, before everything was black and he was gone. 


	4. Chapter 4

The black was almost tangible as he drifted in the void, he could almost touch it when he reached out with his hand. Blood spattering everywhere, flowing... Where was he? Who was he? Hands and legs and heads floated around him, dripping blood and gore, hitting him, touching him, accusing him. He could see a tunnel ahead of him, a light at the end of it... Who was he? He did not know.

He felt movement, and the light was coming closer. No, he was moving closer to the light... Was he? Who am I? Where am I? So bright, so painfully bright... Who am I? The light was closer and closer to him, and he began picking up speed. A jolt through his chest brought him pain in a searing flash, he felt like curling up into a ball and crying. That felt wrong somehow, he hadn't done that since... since when? Who am I?

Something grabbed his hand. Without thinking, he turned to punch it only to find himself on his knees with his hands clasped before him. Still he moved torwards the light, yet it was not so bright anymore. He did not know who the figure was, yet he felt a sense of profound worship enter him. The man looked at him... looked at his very soul.

Moving, still moving... Away from the figure. He stood up, gazing in the distance. He could hear whispers in the darkness, the pain was there again, searing up and robbing him of his sight. Then suddenly, he could see again. Who am I? The figure was glowing, and majestic in appearance, taller then any man had a right to be, and he felt like a child about to cry again. The figure frowned, looking with disapproval on him.

"Bring him back." the voice spoke above the whispers, above the turmoil in his head, profoundly moving him to obedience which made him feel so warm and at peace.

The figure smiled in approval, then began to shrink... He was afraid again, afraid of the light which threatened to swallow him, ever closer... Another searing flash of pain blinded him, and when he could see again the glorious majestic figure was gone... and in its place was a thing of nightmare. Pale blue skin with jet-black hair, his hands held in front of him clasped in chains, but most terrifying of all were the eyes, so fiercely burning red and devoid of emotion.

"Bring him back." the voice spoke again, and the chains on the nightmare's hands were broken. As the light began to swallow him, he saw the galaxy swirl beneath his feet, a bright red point glowing at the center of the disc, a red burning as fiercely as those eyes.

"Bring him back, Henin." the voice spoke, and the golden figure was there. As he stared at it, he remembered it all. The ship, the fire, the blood, the iron resolution he had, and it broke through his mind's defense like a dam. He could see the bulkhead Jericho slammed into, he could see the jump which took him sailing to his knees with death in his hand... He could see...

"...The idiot." Henin spoke softly as his eyes fluttered open. He could feel a mask covering his mouth and nose, but he couldn't mistake the smell. Medbay. He was alive, alive and...

"Easy now sir, we almost lost you there for a moment." the medic let out his breath in a sigh of relief, putting away his equipment quickly. Another medic held him down as he tried to rise from his bed.

"Please don't strain yourself sir, you will only make it worse." the medic whispered to him as he gently but firmly held him back.

"Where. Am. I?" the words were a strain on his tongue, his mouth was dry as the desert he hated so much back in the training camp on Crimson Prime.

"You are aboard the 'Righteous Fury' sir, everything is going to be all right. Please relax now, we must tend to your injuries." the first medic, whom he decided to call Whisker due to his facial growth, spoke.

"Water." he rasped. The medic dutifully lifted his head, removed his mask and gave him a small sip of water.

"Where is the idiot?" he said a bit more forcefully.

"Who? You were saying that a lot while you were under." the puzzlement on Whisker's face was evident, and his apparent habit of stroking his whiskers was irritating. He didn't know what happened to his boys, and this fool was fondling his facehair... He forced himself to remain calm, he would win no favors from the General if he had to deal with a certain raging patient jumping off his bed to choke the living shit out of the medic in the Medbay.

"Jericho, Trooper, Second company, Legio Irae, LI0207" Henin rolled it off.

"Ah, him." the medic said looking somewhere beyond his bed.

Henin looked to his left as well, and he could see Jericho on the bed besides him, missing his right arm at the shoulder, looking at him.

"Sir." the trooper muttered.

"You're an idiot Jericho." Henin said while looking at him.

"So I was told sir."

- - - - - - 

"Thirty two troopers, General Borokal, one battlebird." his second rolled it off.

"Wounded?" Hadis asked, turning around the question in his mind what the fuck was Borokal doing leading the assault on that ship. He couldn't find an answer to it. Looking out of the viewport and the hyperspace tunnel outside, which he did not see in his mind's eye. Thankfully this was the last ship they were reading out the losses, 'Blood Oath' was particuliarily bad, it would require atleast a week to get it up to combat effectiveness. They left it behind on Anaxes, to fix a part of the damage and provide escort for the convoy from the capital which arrived an hour late to strip the battlefield for factory materials. Little enough as it was, the surface of the planet yielded more, after they bombarded the high population centers from orbit.

"Fourteen in the medbay, we recieved a report not 12 minutes ago that one of the worst cases, commander Henin, woke up from his coma sir."

"Henin? Wasn't he the one who led the assault on the bridge of the Cruiser after Borokal had his... accident?" Hadis grimaced, thinking of the sheer idiot luck of it all. The chances of a General leading the assault through the outer corridors of the bridge, happening to coincide with a turbolaser from the Cruiser ripping off the engine-and-wing off a battlebird, which smashed into the bulkhead and vacuumed the general into space... presumably if he survived the crash of the bird itself. Bloody unlikely, yet it happened.

"Aye sir, the very one. Examination of the videos from his squad's helmets was very intense."

"I know." Hadis said, thinking of the particuliarly nasty scene from Henin's helmet, the last scene in fact, of the Bothan on top of the stairs recieving a round in the balls. He started to curl into a ball screaming when a bright flash of light ended the video. He had walked through that bridge after it was done, while the rest of the fleet was busy counting its casualities which were suprisingly light, except on the 'Blood Oath'. He walked in the blood and avoided stepping on the limbs of the unlucky Bothans, inhaling the stink of the place. There was shit everywhere, he realized then. Some of the Bothan's loosened their bowels before death took them to its cold embrace. He looked at a Bothan then, with his private parts blown off, a nasty piece of business. Curled up in a ball, he looked peaceful as a baby, if one didn't look at the chunk of durasteel from the ceiling that crushed his elbow as it was brought down. He wore an Admiral's uniform, and Hadis shuddered at the sight. By the grace of the God-Emperor, that could have been me. With my balls blown off and my arms crushed, bleeding like a stuck pig.

He shook out of his reminiscence as his second told him something he didn't hear.

"Admiral? What are we doing about the Army command aboard?"

"Appoint Henin as the General of the Legio. He earned it today."

"Very good sir. We should be arriving in the Thalasea system soon. I've taken the liberty of assessing the status on our battlebirds, they are at 86 capacity."

"Which is very good, considering the odds we faced. Commend the battlebirds, and express my deepest regrets at their comrades from the 'Blood Oath'. The execution was a sad and terrible affair." Hadis nodded to his second. Unfortunately there was no way around it, he wouldn't have his own men destroy their ships just to paint a couple of more skulls on their wings. The Republic will be trying hard enough. Lieutenant Yule's execution was a necessary if sad act, it would hopefully bring the remains of his squadron to heel.

"Coming up on Thalasea in two minutes lord Admiral." the report from the helm officer came.

"All systems report in." Hadis requested.

"Weapon control ready."

"Communication ready."

"Fighter control ready."

"System control ready."

"Helm ready."

"Engine room ready."

As the reports came in, the clock ticked to ten.

"Countdown to exit, five... four... three... two... one... exiting hyperspace." the helm officer reported. He seemed a bit more sure of himself if Hadis was any judge of character. Good, this shakedown cruise wasn't so bad after all if it got the helm to stop fidgeting with his lips every time they jumped into hyperspace or exited from it.

"Sensors read multiple targets in orbit of the planet, no military response present so far. 'Righteous Fury' and 'His Majesty' have exited hyperspace and are assuming formation."

"Shields activated, battlebirds standing by."

The tactical screen began to blink as information was fed into the tactical computer. Ship configurations appeared several of what appeared to be freighters landing on the planet or leaving it. As it was, it looked like a beautiful morsel to capture, but time was of the essence here. The Star Destroyers approached at flank speed, well past the point where gravity no longer allowed ships to enter hyperspace, before anyone bothered to hail them.

"This is Flight Control to unidentified ship, please transmit your identification, your cargo manifest and your flight plan." the bored voice of some flight controller obviously bored beyond his wits handling traffic.

Hadis smiled. He keyed in the orders to 'Righteous Fury' and 'His Majesty' to approach to closer range before launching their birds.

"This is Flight Control, please respond or we will be forced to restrain you."

Hadis frowned, few people made threats in these days, the Vong had everyone on their toes from what he was given to understand... On their toes... And a bored Flight Controller was...

"All ships launch birds, open hatches and open fire immediately! Jam their communications!" he ordered. Acknownledgements came in from the other ships as fighters poured from the docking bays, and hatches began to open along the hull while turbo laser batteries rose from their compartments. The first volley was fired just before the first freighter rose its shields.

"Contacts in sector B3, ship designations being drawn..."

The tactical screen came alive with red dots as the freighters raised their shields and began returning fire. Too much fire for freighters to possess, too much. Red points of light appeared by dozens on the screen, and Hadis could notice fighters being launched from the bigger freighters. Apparently they turned some into carriers and others into mobile defensive platforms. Behind them, three white triangular shapes were approaching, designated as Victory Star Destroyers, including an Interdictor cruiser which promptly began warming up its gravity well projector. They were launching ships as well.

The only positive thing they had was, they approached too fast and too close to the planet and the freighters orbit. That put them out of the range of the bulky Star Destroyer's devastating guns. It also put them in dead sight of the freighters and their guns. First flashes of hot light were traded, and the freighters were getting the worst of it. 'His Majesty' was lucky enough to fire a volley while one of the carrier freighters was launching fighters, and temporarily lowered its bow shield for the fighters to pass. The deadly payload struck the carrier with punishing force, detonating God-Emperor alone knew how much starships and valuable fuel. Another stroke of luck was, the blast overloaded the shields on an unlucky modified corellian corvette just closing formation with it to offer protection which overlapping shields would allow.

"Weapons, concentrate all firepower on the Corvette." Hadis calmly ordered. It took weapons control full two seconds to fire the volley, and it wasn't perfectly executed at all. The fore guns fired first, the aft and bow guns fired with a delay. He hoped this wasn't another technical mishap, those seemed to be happening alot these days.

As it was, the first shots hit the midsection, while the second shots ripped through the corvette's engines. The ship was venting air and people into space, with fires guttering in the holes punched through their engines.

The battle was descending into chaos and melee's. Hadis saw the 'Righteous Fury' rip through a freighter and begin manuevering to avoid the planet's atmosphere, though the freighter still impaled on its ramming spike didn't the manuevering that close to the atmosphere and the gravity well. The ship shook beneath him when the Star Destroyers opened fire.

"Turn us around. Order 'His Majesty' to deploy itself against the Star Destroyers." There was no other choice, those warships packed more firing power then the freighters, it would rip them apart unless...

"Belay that order, order 'His Majesty' to engage the freighters. Fighter Control, all operational battlebirds are to engage the Star Destroyers at point blank range and try to disable what weaponry they can, if possible take out their shield generators. Engine room, drop speed to flank and rerout all power to shields." Hadis ordered, remembering the lessons about the various weaknesses of capital ships. One weakness the Star Destroyer line of production of the Empire of old shared, was the exposed shield generators and the mounted guns not good at tracking small craft.

Another red dot blinked out, and then the 'Judgement' shook. And again. And again. Then lights blinked and went out.

"What the hell was that?" Hadis turned around, eyeing the crew pit.

"Last I heard from Engineering was something about ion cans sir."

"That makes no sense, what cans are..." the second in command started to talk. The ship shook hard, and out of the viewport Hadis could see air venting out of a hole punched further down the fore of the ship. The lights blinked and came back on.

"Shields are down, restoring now!"

"Damage reports section 1 open to vacuum, bulkheads are sealing!"

"Engines back on!

"Shields are online at fifty percent and climbing!"

"Weapons online!"

"Rerout all engine energy to the shields, I want them at maximum as soon as possible. Weapon control, fire at will on the Destroyers." Hadis ordered as he waited for the tactical computer to reset. He was looking out of the viewports when he noticed the 'His Majesty' taking fire from the surface of the planet. Ion cannons! They were coordinating the Ion cannons with the fire from the Star Destroyers, he realized. Only the heavily armored carparace of the ship saved them from destruction. He thought those Star Destroyers had more firepower though...

"Six battlebirds lost, the fighter commander reports objective complete on the port Star Destroyer, they're doing their best to bring down the shield on the other one."

"Excellent work! Weapons, open fire on the starboard Star Destroyer." 

Starfighters began to fly around the 'Judgement', clearly the enemy thought to do the same by disabling their shields. Thank the God-Emperor they weren't on a visible place, as it was the fighters were left with nipping at the hull. Hadis grimaced, they could still cause severe damage, but better to ignore theirs then the fire from the Star Destroyers. His thought didn't even finish when an explosion detonated on the Star Destroyer they were attacking.

"Report." he asked.

"One shield generator down sir, one battlebird lost."

"Weapons, power up the weapons to maximum, I don't care if they overload. Full volley on the bridge of that Star Destroyer. Flank speed, take us in."

The silence of the guns on the 'Judgement' was ominous for a brief moment. It looked as if the battleship was giving up, silencing its guns amidst all the chaos of the battle. Then the guns of 'Judgement' opened fire. Several explosions riddled the deck as turbolaser batteries blew up from the overload, but most of them fired without problems. The shields of the Star Destroyer held for a moment, then fully collapsed.

"Heavy damage on 'His Majesty' sir!" a call came out amidst the cacaphony of the cheering on the bridge of 'Judgement'.

Hadis turned around just in time to see ion fire slamming into 'His Majesty'. Like before, the lights on the Destroyer blinked out and died, and on the tactical computer where noone was looking, the small gold circle around a blue dot vanished. Outside, the freighters were bloodied but alive. Well able to deliver point-blank damage to 'His Majesty'.

"Bring us around, full speed on the freighters!" Hadis was terrified now, their entire plan was in peril now. The lights on 'His Majesty' began to flicker, then die again as another ion blast struck the battleship, disabling it once again. Not far away from them, 'Righteous Fury' delivered a full broadside slamming into a freighter's aft section, sending it tumbling out of control with its engines going on and offline erratically, furtherly complicating its rotation. 'Judgement' was nearly out of its turn, and all power was redirected to the engines in an effort to rush to their comrade's aid, and Hadis started biting his nails.

The shields aboard 'His Majesty' flickered and for a moment came online, weak but functional... A shadow appeared on the bridge tower, followed by the freighter wildly spinning out of control as it went through the weakened shields, into the bridge tower. Somehow, all that strain of kinetic energy served only to detonate the power generator aboard the freighter, exploding in a brutal detonation which ravaged the bridge tower.

Hadis dropped his head in grief and failure. 


	5. Chapter 5

The neverending tunnel of hyperspace was the only sight available to him whenever he came to the viewports to check upon the matters aboard his vessel. Luca Niram stood before the viewport now, like many times before in the past several days, clasping his hands behind his back. Three days, without contact from other parts of the Imperium, such as it was in its present state. If all turned out as planned, Anaxes and Thalasea were burning now, with Hadis advancing to the Telti system presumably with minor losses. Intelligence reports were fairly certain that the defenses at Thalasea and Telti would present a minor threat to the newly comissioned Crimson Mark I Star Destroyer models, logic dictating that the any problems would be encountered at Anaxes or nowhere at all.

He frowned, thinking. If Hadis was defeated at Anaxes, most likely he would retreat and regroup, the man was nothing if not obedient to the instructions set upon him. Perhaps a little overcaring for the well-being of the soldiers under his command, still rigid enough to enforce complete obedience in his fleet. The opening of their campaign would serve as an excellent test for the raw-blooded recruits which manned the ships, ultimately it would fall to Hadis to lead Battlegroup One when it was reinforced by the soon-to-be-comissioned warships nearing completion in the shipyards at Crimson Prime. A force of four Star Destroyers along with eight newly-designed Spear-class Cruisers, admittedly based on the old Carrack design, would not be taken lightly. With the political situation at home in dissarray and the revered God-Emperor barely holding the ground against the bickering and discontent in the Senate, things might turn from bleak to utterly impossible.

Those fools demanded that they be put in charge of military operations, like they knew the difference between a fighting tactical retreat and full fledged rout. More sensibly, the God-Emperor demanded his chosen servants skilled in the arts of battle to command his Legions in this Crusade to purge the galaxy. Theoretically, their cause was just and righteous, but pious pleas to the divine were a poor defense against numbers in oposition of them. Any small fleet of the Alliance could bleed them enough to render them beyond operating status, and with the experience they earned during the war with the Vong, and veteran officers... It would be a blood bath out there. Battlebirds however their pilots might be skilled and merciless in battle, could not win the war on their own.

So, a steady and stealthy way of increasing their military power was the only way to go. The rigid discipline he enforced upon his ships would be seen within a matter of moments, a small way of gouging their preparedness for the oncoming struggle.

"Exiting hyperspace in five... four... three... two... one... exiting now." the helm officer calmly counted down as he pulled the ship out of hyperspace, and back into the calm black void of space glittering with the light of a thousand stars.

"Position confirmed, we are in the Thyferra system. Scanners show warships entering in sector 2 portside, we are being hailed by the 'Eternal Faith' lord Admiral." the comm officer looked up in expectation at him, calmly enough to give him pleasure at seeing all those drills at the very least instilled a small modicum of experience in the bridge crew.

"Notify the captains of 'Eternal Faith' and 'Iron God' to assume standard formation until further notice, and to provoke no hostilities." Niram nodded to the comm officer before turning his eyes back to the tactical screen.

"Sir, we are being hailed again, ship identification coming in... 'Capital Profit' stationed in orbit sir, multiple ships on an approach vector. How should we respond?"

"First, inform the ships on the approach vector to turn back or we will open fire if further provoked. Power up the weapons, but wait with deploying the battlebirds just yet, and order 'Eternal Faith' and 'Iron God' to open their weapon hatches but refrain from opening fire until we do. Second, open a channel to the 'Capital Profit', high encryption."

"Aye aye sir...", the comm officer slightly frowned ",opening channel now sir."

"This is Luca Niram of the 'Prejudice', who am I speaking with?" he spoke calmly.

"Niram, have you grown so old that you no longer recognize old friends? May His light shine upon you for all days to come, the way is prepared." the comm crackled with a voice he hasn't heard since he was a juvenile pupil on the academy. He allowed a smile, and hoped the God-Emperor would smile upon the old dog's fortunes.

"Skotos old friend, it has been too long. It seems there are ships inbound, friends of yours?" the voice he spoke with was deceptively soft.

"None on my payroll if thats your meaning. Those are officials trying to look tough, the First Citizen is getting a little fidgety and would like to verify you're not pirates goading him on a merry nerf chase." Skotos replied over the comm, the transmission becoming less and less filled with static as they closed distance.

"What course of action do you propose, in spirit of completing the objective?" Luca frowned, knowing it was useless because Skotos wouldn't be able to see him.

"Puff up your chest, put on the regal look if you still hold to those old ways, and come in person to help me convince the First Citizen. Also, I've taken the liberty of including an old companion of mine into this venture, I will see no harm done to him or his properties, and full respect and adequate position shall be granted to him in order to help him recuperate from the loss he took by following my ploy."

"As you wish. I will be arriving shortly to attend this meeting. In His glorious name." he responded.

"His will be done, brother." the transmission ended.

"Power down weapons, and take us into orbit. Notify the hangar I shall require a company of the Legio Dominatus, in full parade dressing. And a shuttle." Niram nodded to his second-in-command, Captain Marl.

"The bridge is yours captain." with that, he turned away and walked off torward the turbolift.

- - - - - -

It wasn't a complete failure, he remarked. 'His Majesty' was lost with all hands, some of their battlebirds were taken in by 'Judgement' and 'Righteous Fury' to replace their losses or placed into storage, but almost half a dozen of the expensive ships had to be abandoned and subsequently destroyed, as well as the remains of 'His Majesty' to prevent the Alliance from reconstructing the event, or gathering information about their ships from the wreckage. One positive aspect though, was that they gained a new ship to their battlegroup. 'Righteous Fury' proved true to its name following the loss of 'His Majesty', having rammed through no less then five freighters and almost losing its ramming prow, it managed to ram directly into the portside of the Interdictor cruiser while withstanding heavy fire from the Cruiser itself.

The infantry battle was bloody and brutal, but short. The militia aboard those ships had nowhere near the capability of the earlier troops encountered on the Bothan ship, and their mismatched tactics and weaponry was little match against the hard armor and merciless execution of the Legio Irae troops who swept through it with minimal losses, no small feat according to what information he surveyed.

And now, while the 'Righteous Fury' crew was painting skulls on the sides of their battlebirds and the ship itself and hopefully conducting field repair - provided it was not too much to ask from the proud thickskulls - he was sitting here thinking about the course of action. They were driven off, no mistake about that. That manuever with the freighters and the timely arrival of the makeshift hammer to strike them flat upon the anvil, that was no militia tactic or ingenuity, something was amiss here. There was no other choice, he argued with himself, then to retreat now when more ships began jumping into the system. Not anything with the firepower of a Star Destroyer arrived yet, but over fifteen heavily modified ships, ranging from corvette to frigate class, even an old Dreadnought have jumped into the Thalasea system.

Hadis poured himself another drink, and gulped it down. Four, even three ships operational, he'd engage. the Crimson I's were sturdy warships, but two ships, with tired crews and pilots on the edge, against more then a dozen of fresh ships which introduced too many unknown variables with their obvious modifications...

He looked up to the viewport he'd had installed in his quarters, handling the glass in his hand idly. There she stood, the renamed 'Battleborn'. Him and Kharr were transferring crewmembers over to it to get it at least in operational status, after the Legio cleaned it up cubicle centimeter by cubicle centimeter of any living militia and sealed up the breach in the hull caused by the ramming. The men were working around the clock, there was only one logical course of action to take. He took a deep breath, calming his nerves.

Then his calm face exploded into a contortion of endless rage as he jumped to his feet and flung the glass against the wall, snarling in frustration. The doors to his quarters immediately opened, and three Legio troopers came in, tactically precise and professional as always while sweeping the room for potential threats.

"Get the fuck out." Hadis snarled. The troopers slapped their fists against their chestplate, lowered their heads and shiftly got out of the room. He took a deep breath to steady himself again, then he thought he heard one of the troopers mutter "... arrogant cheeky son of a..". Anger would win him nothing today, so he let it go, and straightened out his uniform. Then he pulled a comb and a pocket mirror from one of the pockets in his tunic, and made sure his jet black hair was not in disarray. When he looked in the mirror, cold eyes black as coal stared back at him. Without sparing another thought to the bags under his eyes, he walked out of his quarters. He'd be damned if they'd catch him putting makeup on his face...

As he came up on the bridge, his eyes spied out the helm officer arguing with his second-in-command and the sensor officer. The second spied him first, and hushed the other two as he approached. They saluted, yet he could notice something was amiss.

"Problems?" he muttered.

"Aye sir, six more ships jumped in two minutes ago, Alliance configuration sir. Defender gunships and a frigate we cannot identify due to the distance. They have dispatched scouts sir, we have seven minutes until their arrival, and another three until the vanguard of their assault hits us. Your orders sir? Should we launch the battlebirds?"

"There is no glory to be won for Him by throwing our lives away. Calculate course for Coruscant, inform the rest of the fleet on maximum encryption to drop out of hyperspace precisely two minutes from the jump countdown. Be ready to calculate course for Mon Calamari afterwards, one minute of time should be enough to allow us to lose pursuit long enough to calculate the course back to Crimson Prime. Upon first exit, be prepared to send a transmission to Thyferra informing Grand Admiral Niram of our situation." Hadis came to his decision.

"Retreat sir?" his second seemed puzzled by the prospect of it.

"Tactical withdrawal. I will not waste my men winning a battle that cannot be won. You have your orders captain, that will be all." he nodded to his officers declaring the discussion over.

It took them nearly three minutes to get the whole fleet up to par and to actually make sure the hyperdrives on the Interdictor wouldn't blow out on them halfway through the manuevers. As Hadis stood on the bridge of the 'Judgement' he contemplated idly for a moment sending out a squadron of battlebirds to stall the enemy for a minute or two while the fleet made it into hyperspace. Ofcourse, he wouldn't be doing that. He was never the type that left men behind to do his dirty work, now the Grand Admiral... that was another pair of boots. The battlebird pilots were initially handpicked out from close relatives, friends, and such, then randomly drawn into rosters to fill out the designated number of some fourty squadrons. A costly venture, to say the least.

Then came the wargames. He was present on the makeshift staging platform on the outer edges of Crimson Prime's home system when the entire assembly was informed that this would be a fight to the death, squadron against squadron. Ships being more valuable then manpower apparently, the battlebirds were equipped with a techno-gadget he wasn't familiar with, to calculate aboard the ship if the craft had been virtually destroyed. The techno-gadget would then proceed to fry the smack out of the unlucky pilot.

Not that the men were against it. Fighter pilots that they were, indoctrination was part of their training. Faith, duty, obedience. Out of the original fourty squadrons, only five squadrons survived that day. The squadron with the most survivors was commanded at the time by a Commander Niram, whose brutal tactics and lack of sympathy for his three brothers in the other squadrons made up the divine God-Emperor's mind that he was the man to command the Crusade that would liberate this poor, suffering galaxy from the grip of anarchy and restore order and sensible behavior, such as it was.

He bombarded a planet into oblivion. Estimated 4.6 bilion beings, vanquished. Was this the glory he was set out to win for His name?

"Preparing to jump to hyperspace... Countdown..." the helm officer began the countdown, but Hadis wasn't hearing him anymore.

The only defense on his account he would be able to offer to those 4.6 bilion ghosts, was his faith in the divine power of the revered God-Emperor. For a moment, a half-forgotten invocation came to his mind, something he hadn't thought of or believed in ever since he last attended the service at the Cathedral.

"God-Emperor, I suffer for you..." he muttered to himself, bowing his head in pious sentiment. God-Emperor, guide their souls to your side, for the day of reckoning is at hand, he added a silent thought to that. Admiral Hadis lifted his head, at peace.

- - - - - -

Luca Niram sat quietly, preferring to lean back in his chair and let the others do the arguing. He interlaced his fingers against his mouth, and listened carefully. They were seated in a reasonably comfortable room where the desk was wide and sturdy, built out of some material unknown to him though it seemed capable of bearing the weight of a particuliarily overweight Hutt. The chairs themselves were comfortable enough, with plush coushins and high backs they seemed more designed to relax then to keep the party negotiating alert.Though, the room decoration could have used a tinge more artistical touch. The walls were bare, and painted in sky blue, which gave it a serene appearance. No doubt another way to impose a subtle psychological nudge to the parties involved in various negotiations.

Thank the divine God-Emperor he had the upper ground in this negotiation, very literally. Three more Crimson Mark I Star Destroyers joined them in system mere hours ago, speeding up the shuffling of papers the Thyferran goverment was doing to stall them.

"You have no guarantees to offer that you are able to protect us from the Alliance if they choose to invade us, your base of operations might be hidden which is all well and good, but Thyferra is on every galactic map and we cannot hope to survive a war against the Alliance." the First Citizen spoke passionately, like a true politician weightening the pros and cons of the proposal behind his beady little eyes.

"First off First Citizen, the Alliance is not the Empire of old. If they openly invade, they lose all pretence to being a democratic goverment. Do not confuse them with the Empire of old, though recently they do seem to be leaning torwards such ways of solving their problems, that is temporarily. Always has been, with the Republic, or the Alliance, or whatever they're going to call themselves tomorrow or in a year." Skotos spoke calmly, but Niram knew the calmness was a trick to lull enemies into contemplacency, a trick he'd used even back before he was sent on his mission off-world to pave the way for them, one among a thousand. The old dog was turning the trick of the room itself back against its owners.

"You still cannot offer any guarantees of protection, I fail to see the benefit for my world to agree on this proposal." the First Citizen sniffed, pretending to wipe his antiquated glasses which he wore mostly for show, rather then lack of sight.

"We can offer a tax cut of 10 from the Alliance usual 20, as well as an adequately suitable gift to your own person for being a sensible being, caring for your people." Skotos began to speak, then continued when the First Citizen tried to interrupt him, "and I forgot to mention, there will be no taxes on your trade, as far as we are concerned you handle that yourself as you see best." he finished.

The First Citizen sat quietly for a moment, rubbing his stubble of a beard. Apparently the poor man hadn't had time to shave since they entered the system.

"15 tax cut and two million credits in advance as a show of goodwill would go a long way torwards moving me to a decision." he finally said.

"10 cut, two and a half million credits in advance right now. If you wish to negotiate, I am sure Grand Admiral Niram will be happy to debate with you." Skotos said, and rose from his chair, "Have a pleasant discussion, give the Admiral your answer when you are finished." with that, he turned and walked out of the room.

Silence descended on the table, where only the First Citizen and his proxy were present, Grand Admiral Niram, and Addai, whose status and title weren't decided yet. The silence lasted for several minutes, while the First Citizen shifted uncomfortably under Niram's glare. Niram knew what effect his pale eyes had on most people, so he watched without blinking and waited for several more minutes. Then he pulled a datapad out, and began writing.

"First Citizen?" he spoke, breaking the uncomfortable silence.

"Yes Admiral?"

"May I have your answer now? My ships might require instructions soon, and I hate to keep my men waiting." Niram spoke, placing the datapad on the table and holding his finger above the send button.

"Are you implying a threat to the First Citizen?" the proxy spoke up for the first time during the meeting.

"Gentlemen, I am a man whose duty is to secure Thyferra. As of sixteen hours ago, Anaxes, Thalasea, and Telti have been bombarded from high orbit by Imperium warships. Thirty nine warships of the Alliance and local defense sectors have been obliterated by a small taskforce deployed prior to our arrival here, which is now enroute to our base of operations for refueling and supplies before proceeding. I must have your answer now, so that I can proceed with my orders given to me by the God-Emperor in person." Niram spoke the lie smoothly, in truth only Anaxes burned, fiery fumes spreading toxic waste through its atmosphere as the destructive bombardment rendered the planet uninhabitable.

"Well... When you put it that way, two million doesn't sound that bad... Not to mention the tax cuts... We accept Admiral... Thyferra is yours." the First Citizen gave up and caved in.

He pressed the send button on his notepad, and the First Citizen almost jumped in his chair.

"Relax First Citizen. I have merely sent orders to two Legios to deploy in full on Thyferra, to help your civil authorities to preserve the peace, and protect you in case of other problems. You will ofcourse, grant them full access to your key defensive installations, and transfer any equipment larger then a personal speeder or a supply vehicle to their care." Niram allowed a smile, knowing the First Citizen wasn't that stupid, he knew what this meant.

"As you wish Admiral."

"I believe we are done then." he said, raising from his chair. Addai followed him, though he didn't know why, as he exited the room.

"A well sealed deal if I might add. The increase in income from the lowered trade taxes ought to boost the size of those 10 you agreed upon, and making up for the two mils in no time." he spoke conversationally.

"You are correct." Niram nodded.

"Might I inquire as to my situation?" Addai halted, and Niram turned to gaze upon him.

"Were it my decision alone... Well, I have no say to that. However, Director Skotos has decreed you are under his protection, and you are to remain upon Thyferra to secure our interests."

"And what would those interests include, Grand Admiral?" Addai nodded back.

"I believe the First Citizen is well loved among his people. With elections coming, I cannot vouch for his well-being since I assume there will be... rebellious elements among the population opposing the dominion of the Imperium over this system. You will be the candidate which will be elected. It will be up to you to secure the hold on this system, and organize weekly shipments of adequate materials to a location where they will be taken over by emissaries from the Imperium." Niram lowered his voice, it never paid off to be arrogant from his experience.

"I see your point sir. Might I inquire about the amount you consider adequate? And if possible, information regarding any counter moves which will be pulled provided your plan does not work out?" the voice of Addai came lowered as well.

"All information will be delivered to you by more competent individuals good sir. And regarding your other question... If the plan does not work out, I will withdraw the Legio stationed in short order and bombard the planet from orbit until it is rendered inhospitable to sentient beings. I take my leave now, and wish you good luck." Niram gave a final nod to Addai before turning and marching away.

The door closed behind Niram. Addai glared at the door, silently cursing himself for leaving his comfortable office, and coming out to this forsaken place contemplating business with lunatics who'd rather incinerate a planet then devise an alternative mean of securing the objective. His comm crackled, then a voice laced with static broke out.

"Skotos to Addai. My shuttle is waiting for you, I've taken the liberty of sending armed escort to see you safely aboard the shuttle. We shall converse upon our next meeting. Skotos out." the comm sputtered and the connection ended.

For a brief minute, Addai contemplated his options in the middle of the corridor, his eyes still flying to the door cursing that arrogant cocksucker of a Grand Admiral for forcing this upon him. Then it dawned upon him where they were, and what most likely just happened. Perhaps the Grand Admiral wasn't so stupid after all... The door opened with a swish, and two of those grotesquely heavy armored troopers stepped into the corridor, waving their bulky guns along with their helmets, though Addai wasn't precisely sure what they were looking for to their left or right in a one-way corridor. Having confirmed the corridor was evidently secure, barring the presence of himself, they took up guard positions near the door. Might as well let them know where their place is, even if they were twice as tall as he is...

"I believe you are my escort to Director Skotos. Very well then, lets be off." he nodded to the troopers.

"We have instructions to await for back up sir, before extracting you. Our orders are to secure your location and your person."

"Problems trooper?" Addai frowned for a moment. Surely he wasn't wrong, and the lunatic got itchy fingers and decided to make good on his fascination with orbital bombardments.

"Riots in the streets sir. The population is in an uproar, something to do with the First Citizen taking bribes I believe. They're demanding a governor from the Imperium, I believe one of the slogans they were shouting was 'Better a honest conqueror, then a stealing traitor' sir."

"My my, I think I'm starting to believe in this whole God-Emperor hokey religion thing, I believe he just answered my prayers." Addai gave the troopers a wolf smile. Aye, he answered my prayers and gave the lunatic a modicum of good sense, he thought to himself.

His smile vanished when suddenly those big and bulky guns with their three barrels and most noticeably highly deadly ammunition turned in his direction.

"Do not mock the revered God-Emperor." as one, the troopers spoke. 


End file.
